


Kiss The Cook

by spookyleo



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Panic Attacks, bit of angst, haha this is mainly porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-26
Updated: 2018-02-26
Packaged: 2019-03-24 11:21:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13810137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spookyleo/pseuds/spookyleo
Summary: “I guess it’s like Oscar Wilde said. Love is a sacrament that should be taken kneeling.”Tony's been away. Steve's been cookin'.Valentine's Blowjobs because I always thought that had a ring to it. (Pun not intended, but I'm not against it)





	Kiss The Cook

**Author's Note:**

> Valentine's Secret Santa entree for Meds in the TDSL Valentine exchange. Enjoy!!!

“And so _I_ said, don’t we _all_ , Deborah?”

The sun was beginning to come up, spilling blue and purple light across Tony’s hands, still, spread over the vinyl resin of the steering wheel. The light was displaced by the shadows of raindrops on the windows, dappling the colours like a forest under a multi-coloured sky. Blue displays covered the windshield in front of where Tony sat, a string of numbers glowing aquamarine below the name and the face of the man he spoke to. The man in the image was lying on one side, face squashed into a pillow, blonde hair sticking up, messy, blue eyes tired but sparkling with happiness - not unlike the way Tony’s own darker eyes glimmered.

“Did you repulser-blast her?” the blonde’s deep voice was tinged with humour, and his tongue flicked out to rest in the corner of his mouth as a smile spread across his face.

“Ha ha, Steve,” Tony’s reply hummed with sarcasm like sweet honey, a smile spreading lazily across his own features. “Nearly.”

“Are you gonna make your way home now?” Steve was serious again, a tinge of concern to his sleepy tone.

“Yeah, will do. Very excited to see you again, by the way.” There was a shred of doubt in the back of Tony’s mind; he usually didn’t like to drive when he was this tired, and he hadn’t slept since... ooh, it must have been the 12th of February? Two days ago?

“You too. Drive safely, honey.”

“You heard the man, FRIDAY.”

“I’ll talk to you later.”

“Love you.”

“You too.”

Exhaustion set in again as the dial tone rang flat after Steve hung up.

Tony had had to disappear on a business trip very suddenly about a week ago, pressing issues in Seattle that he had to attend to, or something like that. The following days had taken him from Seattle to Los Angeles, to Texas for a day for some reason, and then back cross-country to Seattle. Steve had been left behind to hold up the fort in New York, just in case anything went down that was potentially earth destroying.

He knew the journey back would seem like even longer than the journey out to Seattle. A half-hour drive to the airport, hour (ish) wait for the private Stark Industries jet to arrive, then a five-hour flight back to New York. The drive back to the Avengers compound might take another half hour, depending on the traffic.

At least he could sleep on the plane, right?

The glowing displays of the car sparkled as Tony turned the ignition.

“Set course, FRIDAY.”

 

 

The sun was high in the sky when Tony arrived back to the compound, a few clouds in the otherwise blue New York skyline, but there was a chill to the air that was only reminiscent of the city in early Spring. Tony shivered and pulled his jacket closer to himself.

“Honey, I’m home,”

The smell of baked goods hit Tony as he pushed open the door of his and Steve’s quarters, warm and welcoming, inviting Tony to the kitchen where his partner stood, somehow even taller and more handsome than Tony remembered. The blonde wore an apron printed with the text “ _Kiss The Cook_ ”, but it had been washed incorrectly and was peeling, so now read closer to “ _Kiss The Cock_ ”, which really neither Steve or Tony had an objection to, which was why it had stayed around.

The first in-the-flesh eye contact made in an entire week between the two held glimmering ocean waves, pure blue with just a _hint_ of green, and they crashed down around earthy warmth, dark honey, ancient oak branches. It was happiness and closeness and love, unbridled and intense love in one look, an unspoken exchange that wept beauty.

“You have cake mixture on your face.”

There was no hesitation as they met in an embrace, eyes pressed tightly shut and smiles carving through their cheeks. They broke apart, keeping hold of each other's arms, and smiling at each others gaze; a moment of bliss that could shatter earths.

Tony’s brow furrowed for a second – he licked one thumb and swiped it over the Captain’s cheek, moving away the smudge of cake mix that lay there.

“Hm. Madeira.”

Steve kissed him then, just for a second, a momentary hello that couldn’t be held back.

“Valentine's cake. It’s in the shape of a love heart,” Steve was a typical romantic, the definition of a Cancer stereotype. He’d probably be the sort to invest in flowers to be delivered to the house, or refuse sex on the first date because he wanted the relationship off to a good start (something he had actually done with Tony a few years back when they had started out, and quickly retracted a few days later when he found out just how _good_ Tony was.)

“Aww,” Tony crossed his arms, a grin scrunching up his face.

“Aw indeed. Did you get some sleep on the way over? If I know you, you probably spent the whole time away working so hard you forgot to look after yourself,” the driving force of what Steve said was humour, but there was a more than just a tinge of concern edging his voice.

“I did not. I was watching the sunrise, and let me tell you, it was beautiful. _Astounding_.”

“You got any more adjectives you wanna get off your chest before I make you go take a nap?”  

“Yes. Delicious!” Tony’s eyes had wandered around the light-filled kitchen to the bowl of leftover cake mix on the kitchen counter. Steve noticed, and laughed contently.

“Go for it.” Something about 21st-century life that Steve found fun was that there was no rationing, so it was a huge amount easier to have a vegetarian or vegan diet. He’d always considered eating that way, not as a way to make him feel better about himself but more as an “ _it’s a personal choice_ ,” sort of thing, and so he was trying out baking without eggs. This meant there was no risk of salmonella, whoever _she_ is, when Tony ate the cake batter from the bowl.

“So it’s Valentine's day. Did you want to make a reservation at a restaurant, or anything like that?”  
“Well, first of all, it is _way_ too late to make any sort of reservation, and also, remember last year?”

Steve did remember last year, completely and utterly. The restaurant had been fully booked despite their Avengers “perks”, and it had been so.... intense and bustling, nerve-wracking with all the _people_ and the _heat_ and the _talking_ that Tony had ended up freaking out quietly in the men’s bathroom. Steve had come to his aid, leaving a large tip for the no doubt overworked servers. Tony and Steve had left not long after, then ordered pizza and binged Netflix for the rest of the evening.

Needless to say, formal occasions were not their forte.

“Well good, because I’m gonna cook for you.” Steve had a slight mischief to his smile now, a stiff determination in stormy eyes.

Tony laughed “, Ok then.”

“You go get some sleep.”

Tony nodded.

 

Waking up to the distinct scent of burning rice was somewhat of a shock.

It wasn’t as if this was the first fire alarm Tony had ever woken up to, and it wasn’t as if Tony didn’t know that he had multiple fail-safe protocols to protect his loved ones in case of an inescapable threat, but a familiar wave of panic hit as he jolted awake. He tried to ignore where his heart seemed to pound almost out of his chest as he scrambled for words.

“Uh, FRIDAY, quick. What’s going on,” as the lights blinked on, Tony’s hands scrabbled at his chest, trying to calm what screamed there.

“Nothing to worry about, Boss. Mr. Rogers is cooking in the kitchen. I’ll turn the alarm off now.” Her tone was steady, stable, but not light like it usually was. It was difficult for Tony to tell whether she was underplaying it or not.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Tony couldn’t tell if it was his imagination or not, but he was sure he could hear flames lapping at the bedroom door. He was sure if he listened closely enough he’d hear his partner screaming for help. His chest felt heavier. Every cell in his body screamed that everything was wrong, that fire would rage through his bones and destroy all th-

“I understand you’re currently undergoing another panic attack. Would you like me to call Mr. Rogers for you?”

“Uh, please, if he’s free.” Tony grunted then, and blinked hard, pushing back the tidal wave that surged in his chest and longed to spill through his throat, a drowning ebb that pushed his brain out through his ears and his heart through his mouth.

And it was soft hands and soft words, whispered sorrys and assurances of okay-ness, sitting and holding on and letting it pass.

And it did, eventually, and so Tony was left in crumpled covers, leaning, slightly tensed, on his partner's shoulder. Heart rate normal once again, thought process as regular as it could be.

“Bet you didn’t think I could fuck rice up, huh?”

“Well, you tried. I definitely appreciate that.”

“It’s just kind of sat there in there ya know. In the pan. Dum-E sprayed it with so much foam. He was over the moon.”  Tony chuckled at that, through the bubbling that was once a surge.

“What were you cooking?”

“It was _going_ to be vegetable chow mein and rice. But I didn’t even get on to the vegetables, so I guess... not too late to try again?”

Tony shifted where he sat beside Steve, squirming further into his hold. Steve smiled and continued “, Or...  We could just get pizza and watch a movie?”

 

Two hours later, with half-empty pizza boxes and _Mulan_ drawing to a close on the screen in front of them, the two men lay curled together, lazily and contentedly, Tony’s head on Steve’s chest and Steve’s arm around Tony.

“I’m sorry for being dumb earlier,” Tony rolled his head on Steve’s chest to make eye contact. Steve’s brow furrowed.

“What do you mean?”

“Freaking out like that. It was silly. And I ruined the dinner you were gonna make us, which by the way is still so sweet and lovely, but I spoilt it and-“

“Hey.” Steve’s tone became serious, and he moved his head so that he could look his boyfriend directly in the eye. “, You spoilt nothing, and it wasn’t silly of you to have a panic attack. That’s not something you can help happening. Listen, if anything, it was my fault for not warning you that I’m a terrible cook.” A small smile came back to Steve’s face, and it was infectious. Tony exhaled shortly through his nose, a small smile returning weakly to his features, a look in his soft brown eyes that said: “ _if you’re sure_.”

“What is it with me and Valentine's days, huh?”

“I’m sorry your Valentines days keep being awful. However, on a more positive note, that cake I made earlier came out great. Would you like some?”

“Actually, that sounds lovely.”

 

The icing was pink and frosted, perfect for the only slightly burnt heart shaped cake. Somehow not only was the cake burnt, but the middle was vaguely falling in on itself, so it was obvious that Steve had made up for it with extra frosting in the centre.

“It’s amazing.” Tony was sat on their bed when Steve brought out the cake. As Steve sat beside him, Tony scooped some of the icing off on his finger, then licked it off, looking up to make eye contact as he did so. Which _totally_ did not turn Steve on, just a little bit.

“Stark, you fucking tease.”

Tony licked more icing off his finger, in a less suggestive manner this time, shrugging as he did so.

“Well, you know, it is Valentine's day.” His eyebrows arched mischievously, a playful smile coming to his face.

Steve was the responsible romantic type; many saw him as a prude, or, some, in a rather contradicting manner, saw him as someone who would be overjoyed at the prospect of sexual contact. The truth was that Steve was more of a “ _Go with the flow_ ” guy when it came to the bedroom, versatile, but good at giving a partner whatever they wanted. Steve had known Tony intimately for a while at this point, and he knew that Tony was the kind of man who enjoyed being dominated- but sweetly, kissed and teased until feather-light touches melted him into soft moans and desperation – then liked to be fucked, hard and fast, until both men were breathless and spent.

And so Steve pulled his partner onto his lap, dragging a perpetuating, soft grunt from Tony’s lips. The shorter man was in boxers and one of Steve’s T-Shirt’s, slightly too big, and he looked into Steve’s eyes like he saw pure stardust there. It was a look that hadn’t change in years. The first time Steve had seen that look, he’d been certain that he knew safety and love. And that feeling pertained to the day, to the minute, to the second that Tony leaned in and kissed him.

“It is indeed,” Steve began moving away from the other's lips, scattering kisses across stubbled jaw, lingering just below the mandible and drawing a gasp from rough lips. His kisses pushed down, working down his throat, over his Adam’s apple and down to his collarbone, where he paused to look up at the man whose breaths began to shorten.

“I always forget how much this does to you,” Steve sounded amused, smiling into Tony’s skin, feeling the vibrations of the man’s chuckle through his pulse and grinning further.

Words were not for this moment, though, and the next move made was scrabbling at Steve’s shirt that hung on Tony’s frame, pushing it up with calloused fingertips rough on smooth skin, then over the white scar tissue decorating his chest. Steve had always compared the scarring from the arc reactor to the sun; the way the raised surface twined off in individual beams reminded him of the way children draw the suns rays, and Steve loved it, loved that the man that loved him was a beacon of light in so many respects. When Steve loved something, he loved it with his whole heart, and Tony was one of the things that Steve could not imagine not loving.

His T-Shirt rose over Tony’s head, where it was flung to one side, and Steve continued his oral exploration of Tony’s body – lips and tongue carving down skin and scars and flesh, occasional nips as he moved Tony’s body around and away in order to lay him down on the bed, and to access his chest, abdomen, and induce further soft moans from his throat. Down, down down until kisses were nibbled at his waistband, quick, breathless and spine-tingling until Tony lay almost flat on the bed and Steve’s lips hovered, heat exuding over where fabric stretched tightly across Tony’s semi-erection.

Tony huffed softly, the sheer tension pulling further tightness at the base of his cock. “C’mon Steve.”

The other man laughed at this, and the heat from the laugh tensed Tony further, tenting under the material of his underwear, tugging a hiss from his mouth.

And so the waistband of  Tony’s underwear was slowly peeled back, slow release, and Tony arched up into where Steve’s hands moved.

“Please, c’mon,” Steve always found it funny how quickly his boyfriend could go from confident and mischievous to a gasping, desperate putty in the palm of his hand, but he couldn’t dismiss just how _much_ it turned him on. Tony’s breathy moans were porn star worthy, going straight to Steve’s cock and leaving him tight inside his own pants.

Steve refocused on Tony’s cock, which bounced half hard from the fabric it was concealed within against the soft cushion of his abdomen; pink in colour and flushing subtly deeper as Steve watched. Then, he knelt, peppered light kisses on the man’s inner thighs, watching as his cock twitched on his stomach. Steve could see where Tony’s mouth parted, could hear his solicitations, _please, please,_ and Steve was finally ready to oblige.

No more teasing. Steve pushed his tongue up the length of Tony’s cock, a truly pornographic moan sputtered from the other man’s lips. Pushing his own lips onto Tony’s head, he listened to the others noises, the quickened breaths and the hisses, revelling in each moment... and just as Tony had been able to grow accustomed to this bliss, this pleasure, Steve took him all the way down his throat, enjoying the way the man’s hips bucked and his back arched.

“Oh, God,”  

“I prefer Steve,”

“Did you just stop sucking my dick purely to make that joke?”

“Yes.”

“Seriously though,” Steve took Tony to the back of his throat and back again, garnering more caught breathing, more placated moans.

“You may be a super soldier but I’m not. It’s been a week, don’t..... ungh,” the sounds Tony was making were superhuman, that was for sure. “Don’t let me come yet.”

Steve gave the man what he wanted, pulling away from Tony, moving away completely, no touch, nothing. Tony pulled himself to his knees, cock still hard against body that moved in and out with accelerated breathing. He moved closer to Steve, his bare form against Steve in tight boxer briefs and a slim fitting t-shirt, his chest and shoulders pushing at the cotton. Their lips met again, Tony reversing the situation and yet still remaining the desperate of the two, tugging at the material of Steve’s t-shirt and pausing their kiss to pull it quickly from Steve’s body, discarded as Steve’s other shirt had been. There was no need for the slow going teasing that Steve knew Tony loved in this case – Tony could see him, hard, through the unnecessarily tight trunks (really, that man needed to learn how sizing worked) – and Steve pulled away the underwear as quickly as Tony lowered his hands to Steve’s hips.

Steve was significantly bigger than Tony in many respects, and although both recognised this, they also recognised that Tony was the resident size queen as well as being the better cock sucker of the two.

And this was evident as Tony slipped rough lips over Steve’s pale pink erection, taking him down with no warmup required, bringing a blissful expression to Steve’s face as Tony looked up, doe-eyed and beautiful, one hand wrapped around his own cock, Steve’s fingers buried in the back of his hair.

As he came close, Steve moved from the warmth of the lips that made silk jealous, shouting as he finished over Tony’s open mouth.

Steve let out a grunt, watching as some of his come decorated Tony’s eyelashes, and subsequently as Tony attempted to blink it away. He was astounding, truly an astonishing sight, and Steve was semi hard again before he even knew it.

“I love you,” Tony mumbled, half chuckling as he knelt fully again to kiss Steve, one hand still around a – presumably, by now – aching cock.

Steve hummed in agreement. “We gotta deal with this now, huh?” his voice was filled with fond tenderness, smiling into the kiss, tasting himself on Tony’s lips.

Lube was always next to their bed. Trusty bottles of specially formulated lube that managed to remain at a perfect consistency, which, to many, sounds like a fanfiction writers God Mod, as it were, but really we have to remember here that Tony is an engineer with a strong liking to sex. Condoms also, were always next to their bed, but those wouldn’t be necessary on this night.

Hands ran up the curve of Tony’s back, two fingers lubed, running back and forth through the line from Tony’s taint, over his hole and up to the small of his back. This kind of teasing, again, tensing Tony up, drawing irregular breaths from his lungs, until one, two, fingers entered him, pushing gasps from his throat which turned into moans as Steve pushed fingers in and crooked them, just a little, until Tony was a breathy mess, on the edge, fingers weak in their placement around his dick, and Steve muttered about how good Tony was as the blonde drove him to orgasm, spilling over his stomach and pushing his lips to Steve’s.

It was quickly after that that Steve came, one hand to finish himself off a second time.

And so they lay beside each other, half asleep, the VHS having reduced to a black and white static, for a little while, until Tony sat up slowly and grabbed a slice of his pizza.

“I guess it’s like Oscar Wilde said. Love _is_ a sacrament that should be taken kneeling.”


End file.
